


Teacher needs to see me after school

by Florchis



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, POV Jemma Simmons, Single mother Jemma Simmons, Teacher/Single Parent AU, teacher Leo Fitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:50:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9474287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/pseuds/Florchis
Summary: Jemma Simmons is used to being called to Peggy’s school for “teacher-parent meetings” that are actually concealed scoldings, but this is the first time since Peggy entered the formal education system that Jemma has been called by someone who wants to praise her daughter instead of repress her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> From an anon prompt in tumblr. Got a little long to post it in my Fs drabbles collection. Title- of course- from "Hot for teacher".

The truth is, Jemma Simmons is used to being called to Peggy’s school for “teacher-parent meetings” that are actually concealed scoldings. Being used to them doesn’t mean that they are easier to swallow, though. Peggy has a free spirit and a brilliant mind, and maybe she is just a year ahead and not a thousand, like Jemma was at her age (maybe that is the problem), but still, she shouldn’t be reprimanded for wanting better and demanding more, and Jemma will fight tooth and nail for her right to express herself. Besides, if Peggy says that some teacher’s lessons are boring her out of her mind, there is probably truth behind her words.

That’s why Jemma gets to the school on time, with her impeccable work clothes and her polite smile on, but steeling herself for a bitter reunion with some old teacher that will complain about her child non-stop. She is on her best fighter-that-will-slay-you-with-words mode, but she is startled when, instead to a rancid, dusty cupboard excuse for an office, she is sent into the Sciences Lab to meet with professor Leopold Fitz. She gets inside when she gets there, because the door is open and there is no one waiting for her outside. It’s the first time that she has set foot on this particular room of the school, and the nostalgia about her own school days is so strong that it’s almost a physical sensation, with the almost toy-like microscopes and the photogates and the big can of hydrochloric acid, everything mixed together on the same counter top. Jemma waits respectfully inside, less than a foot from the door, but when after five minutes nobody has come to meet her, she starts getting impatient.

She ventures inside the lab, going by watch glasses with crystals of cobalt oxide and pendula all over the place, until she finds a tiny office with the lights on, and knocks on the door.

“Come on in!”

She freezes a little, because is that a scottish accent? She shakes her head, because it doesn’t matter anyway and opens the door to find a man around her age, with an electric circuit on each hand, talking animatedly- twirling around his full hands and raising his eyebrows- with two students that look at him like he hung up the sun himself. Well, this isn’t what she was expecting _at all._

“Hello? Mr. Fitz?”

He raises his head and wow, those are some blue eyes. Jemma swallows with a little difficulty.

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Simmons! Sorry to leave you waiting, I was just finishing up with this guys for the science fair next week.”

He makes a gesture with his head and offers them the electric circuits. The boy and the girl take one each and go out of the office speaking a mile a minute. Jemma waits till they are out before re-starting the conversation.

“It’s Ms. Simmons actually, Mr. Fitz.”

He smiles a little and offers her his hand. Jemma shakes it a little more forceful than strictly necessary, trying to feel better about her undeserved nerves.

“Oh, just Fitz is fine. Would you like to take a seat?” Jemma looks around, and every plain surface is covered with toolboxes, wires, screwdrivers, even some parts that look almost robotic. She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow, and he has the good sense to blush a little. “Oh, um, let me…”

He vacates a chair just by putting everything on the floor and she sits on it as demurely as she can, while he leans on the corner of his desk. She waits a beat for him to start the conversation, after all he is the one who called her in, but he seems too lost in thought while he stares at her. Jemma clears her throat to reclaim his attention.

“Oh, excuse me, Ms. Simmons, it’s just… do we know each other?”

Jemma crosses her hands on her lap, and tilts her head.

“I doubt it. I’m sorry, but nor your name nor your face ring any bells on my head.”

He shakes his head, and starts rummaging through a folder. It looks a little like he is just doing it to keep his hands busy.

“I don’t know, I feel like I have seen you somewhere. Not… not in person, maybe a photograph or something? I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense.”

He extends a paper that looks like a report page on Peggy. She starts reading it, while answering with a light tone.

“Well, I’m no model, and unless you are keen on reading papers about neurotoxins, I don’t think-”

She gets interrupted by a startling noise, and when she looks up she realizes it must have been his fist against his other palm.

“That’s it! I read your last paper on the uses for different dosages of dendrotoxin, was that it? It had your picture on the abstract.”

She gaps a little, because what is doing a physics high-school teacher reading her very complex paper on pharmacology?

“I didn’t made the connexion sooner, because, well, Simmons is not that uncommon of a name, and besides, I just assumed that Peggy has her father’s last name. My bad. This is what I deserve for making heteronormative assumptions. But, well, now everything makes a lot more of sense,”

Is he for real? Jemma can’t tell, because she is busy considering if it would be too obvious if she pinched herself to make sure this isn’t a dream. She only manages to close her mouth and try not to sound too much like he caught her totally off-guard.

“Come again?”

“Well, I summoned you here to talk about Peggy’s creativity and enthusiasm on my course, and to discuss her amazing possibilities for the future, of course. It is only understandable that she comes from a household with such an amazing background on science.”

It’s the first time since Peggy entered the formal education system that Jemma has been called by someone who wants to praise her daughter instead of repress her, and Jemma feels like there is something on her pharynx that she can’t swallow. She tries to compose herself by handing the report back to him, because she can’t understand a word of his handwriting anyway.

“So, um, what did you want to discuss?”

His smile is radiant and, really, _Jemma, get a grip on yourself, this man is your daughter’s teacher, for god’s sake, just because he is kind and attentive with Peggy doesn’t give you the right to think that his smile is blinding and that he has nice hands._ Although his hands are _very_ nice.

Fitz hands her a handful of college brochures, and her daughter is _fifteen, is he out of his mind?_ But there is not enough saliva on her mouth to allow her to say a word- and, also, a nagging voice on the back of her mind reminds her that it would be very hypocritical of her to make a fuss about Peggy going to college early-, so he just looks at him while he talks and talks and talks, like nothing on this world could make him happier than discussing colleges with one of his students’ mother.

* * *

 

“So. I had an interesting meeting at your school today.”

Peggy raises her head so fast it almost looked like she had an electric discharge, and then realizes her mistake and tries to downplay it with a noncommittal _hmm_. Jemma bites the inside of her cheek to not smirk. Peggy is such an awful liar: she might be adopted, but there are certain things that are obviously nurture and not nature.

“With your physics teacher, that’s it.”

Jemma sits down next to Peggy on the couch, and hands her a cup of tea. Her daughter takes it and watches her carefully from over the edge of the cup.

“And what did Mr. Fitz say?”

“He thinks you should start thinking about college in the next two years instead of three. He says he is not sure that physics or even math is really what you want to do, even though you are good at them, and that you should start considering what do _you_ want to do. He says he is available if you want to talk to him about prospects.” Jemma makes a pause to inspect her daughter’s face without dissimulation, and Peggy avoids her eyes. “He also told me that he already had this conversation with you, but that you told him that he should discuss it with me. Like I didn’t raise a young lady capable of taking her own decisions. Now, it seems to me like there are only two plausible explanations to why you would do something like this.”

Now Peggy is definitely looking at anything but at Jemma’s face.

“And what are those options?”

“Number one, you were afraid of bringing this up to me, and you wanted someone else to do it for you. Now, it would hurt me to know you feel the need to do something like this, but I won’t get mad and I want to know it. Is that it?”

Peggy groans like she always does when her mom gets “sentimental”, and even though Jemma knew that it was unlikely, it’s like a weight got off from her chest.

“No, mom, I was going to tell you, maybe not just yet.”

“Okay, then, that leaves me only with my second choice. Margaret Simmons, did you try to set me up with your physics teacher?”

Okay, that coy smile is _definitely_ Daisy’s, and then again with the nurture.

“Did it work?”

“No!” Jemma wants to be final, but to be honest, there is no heat behind her words. “He is your teacher and I’m your mum and it could never work!”

Peggy gets up from the couch and stretches her arms behind her ears.

“I’m not hearing a ‘I didn’t like him’ in that answer.”

Jemma almost sputters her tea, and because she never made a habit of lying to her daugher, there is only one thing left she can say.

“I’m not going to do anything _at the very least_ until you finish high school!”

Peggy smiles at her like Jemma told her that Christmas is coming early this year. It’s not until she is at her room’s door, leaving Jemma blushing and babbling behind, that she responds.

“All the more reason for me to graduate early!” 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, god, I loved writing this, so, if anyone wants to read something else about this scenario, just let me know!


End file.
